


rojus

by NotPersephone



Series: Count and Countess Lecter [33]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Baltic Mythology References, F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-03
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-30 12:13:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20097052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotPersephone/pseuds/NotPersephone
Summary: Now, as they travel back home, there is certainly only one thing on both of their minds, and it is not the quality of the leading soprano. She senses Hannibal’s eyes watching her from the overhead mirror and smiles, knowing he is as distrait as her.For a prompt: rough sexy times vs gentle sexy times





	rojus

**Mėnulis**

It has been the longest car ride of her life. Even though the vehicle moved swiftly through the empty road, it suddenly became boundless with no end in sight.

Shifting in the passenger’s seat, Bedelia changes the crossing of her legs, her fitted dress feeling too restricted all the sudden. Fingers tapping against her thigh, she glances at Hannibal who seems to be focusing all his attention, and gaze, on the road ahead of them. And looking very tempting still in his black tuxedo. Absentmindedly, she licks her lips and attempts to anchor her stare on the passing scenery instead, even if the blurred foliage is hardly absorbing.

It was an _enjoyable_ evening, the opera was up to par on all accounts, but the real pleasure was, as always, in the company. Their usual stolen kisses in the dark soon turned into a brimful want; it was surprising they did not ravish each other right there on a spot. They probably would, if the theatre box weren’t as exposed, Bedelia frowns remembering the architectural _inconvenience_.

Now, as they travel back home, there is certainly only one thing on both of their minds, and it is not the quality of the leading soprano. She senses Hannibal’s eyes watching her from the overhead mirror and smiles, knowing he is as distrait as her.

As the familiar turn finally materialises on the left, a side road leading directly to their estate, Bedelia’s forcefully stilted fingers quiver with anticipation. The car passes through the open gate and her breath quickens, thoughts of eager hands and lips overpowering her mind. Hannibal stops the car right by the front steps and gets out first to open the door for her. Ever the gentleman, Bedelia smiles anew; his manners make her want him even more. Seeing them foregone in moments of passion is a part of the thrill at all times. As she climbs the front steps, Hannibal turns back to park the car, but his longing stare accompanies her all the way to the door. Bedelia smirks; she is amazed he has not abandoned the task altogether.

She steps inside the silent hallway and sets her clutch on the nearest surface. Her heels echo against the polished floors as she follows the long shadows cast by the light of the full moon and enters the empty library, dark shelves upon shelves and an inviting shine emanating from behind the tall windows. She steps closer to the light, the black canvas of the night-engulfed garden serving as a perfect background for her own reflection in the glass. The silver luminosity of the moon turns the golden dazzle of her dress a colder shade, an ominous glow but not any less stunning.

The night really does bring out our true nature, she contemplates, half-smiling at her own reflection.

Soon, another figure appears in the picture, looking as striking as her, his jacket already gone, loosening the knot of his bow tie, his shirt turning a deeper hue of black under the limited illumination. And so are his eyes, its ravenous gleam noticeable even in the imperfect reflection.

“I apologise for having kept you waiting,” Hannibal’s breath is hot against her temple and Bedelia swallows a sigh as his hand slips around her waist to pull her back against him.

Her body is so tense, a mere brush of his fingers sets off fiery charges beneath her skin, rushing down her spine, straight to her core.

“You did,” she strives to chastise him but fails as her voice trembles, betraying her obvious need.

He growls in admission of guilt and dips his head, lips pressing firmly against her skin, lapping at pulse fluttering in her neck. She whimpers in response while his mouth moves to her clavicle, teeth grazing her exposed shoulder. Bedelia’s fingers tangle in his hair and she pulls hard just as he sinks his teeth in her flesh. They both groan in pleasure, and Bedelia tags at his hair again, a silent plea for _more_. Obedient fingers move from her waist to her breasts, straining impatiently against the fabric, and dip beneath the silk to fondle, tweaking her hardened nipples. Her legs waver and she pushes the hips back in her desperate yearning, pressing repeatedly against the outline of his erection. Swallowing a moan, he responds at once, hand releasing her breast to draw the hem of her dress up while the other caresses the smooth line of her inner thighs.

She glimpses at their reflection afresh; Hannibal’s eyes over brimming with desire, her mouth parted and gasping in her wanton state. The cool collectiveness of before is long ripped at seams. Hannibal’s eager fingers reach her soaked core and his eyes widen in an instant surprise of finding no undergarment barrier between his hand and her tantalising flesh.

“It ruined the line of the dress,” she explains breathlessly as he strokes her swollen folds, feeling even more lustful in her admission.

A predatory grin passes through Hannibal’s lips as he removes his hand, but there is no danger in the expression, just desire. He bundles the dress over the small of her back and she braces her hands against the window, biting her lower lip in maddening expectancy, hearing him unzip his pants. His hands grip her hips without preamble, pulling them back abruptly, and Hannibal pushes deeply into her, eliciting a gasp reverberating across all corners of the room. He stills for a moment, admiring the reflection of them in the glass, as she accommodates herself to him and adjusts the grip of her hands. Then he begins to move, thrusting into her with abandon, the night’s prolonged wait finding its crescendo at long last. Bedelia’s head falls back, losing herself in the sensation of having him inside of her, one she itched for all evening. He fills her up to the brim, relentless in his momentum, yet it is still not enough.

She opens her mouth to direct him, but she is too far gone for words; she settles for pushing her hips back eagerly, meeting him thrust for thrust. Hannibal instantly recognises her body’s demands; his hands dig deeper into her flesh and he quickens the pace, each prod making her inner walls clasp tighter around him.

One of his hands leaves its spot and sneaks between her legs, fervently pressing her oversensitive clit. His hard grip is the only thing that keeps her standing as her legs begin to shake. Bedelia’s slick hands begin to lose their grip on the window, smudging the image of them, just as her eyes glass over. She shudders in ecstasy while Hannibal continues to thrust, wringing every last speck of pleasure out of her body before finally finding his release and joining her cry with a moan of his own.

She nearly falls forward as he slips out of her, but his arm encircles her waist anew, keeping her upright, her back pulled against his chest. The euphoric haze slowly disperses, and she sees their reflection once more; both panting and utterly undone, eyes wide and glistening with elation. Her carefully coiffured locks are now in disarray, their skin flushed with fervent glow.

The moon appears brighter than before as though trying to steal another glimpse of them, lustrous orb, temporarily made whole but not for long, shining in jealousy of their passion. She reaches her arm back to stroke Hannibal’s heated cheek and he eagerly nuzzles her hand, inhaling the untamed fragrance of her.

They look nothing like that the sleek predators she saw looking back at her before.

Or perhaps now they do more than ever.

**Saulė**

It has become a permanent part of him, more than just a mere fixture in his memory palace: the petite figure pressed up against him, two warm bodies in their shared embrace of peaceful sleep.

Through the parting shroud of slumber, Hannibal instantly senses the reassuring feel of Bedelia’s frame next to his. The notion of the new dawn comes second, bright light of the rising sun attempting to sneak pass the barrier of his closed eyelids. But he is in no rush to wake up, enjoying the barely conscious state of his mind.

Suddenly, Bedelia’s body moves, pressing itself closer as her hand reaches out to rest on his chest, in search for leverage. It is not like her to wake up before him; Hannibal keeps his eyes closed, savouring the unexpected sensations and its dream like quality as he continues to drift on the waves carrying him back and forth between sleep and awareness.

But his mind becomes gradually more alert while he focuses all his senses on the delicate figure lifting herself up and lying on his chest. Her breath caresses his face as she leans forward, placing a gentle kiss in the corner of his lips. They turn up in an instant smile, the spot she has kissed pulsating with pleasant warmth. Her body shifts on top of his, claiming its territory more prominently and lips move to his ear, cheek resting against his with a kittenish rub.

“Good morning,” she purrs softly and Hannibal’s body tenses in an instant arousal.

The hand presses firmly against his chest as she lifts her head, a cue for Hannibal to finally open his eyes. The sight that welcomes him is nothing short of spectacular; Bedelia’s mussed locks surrounded by a halo of the morning sun, her skin radiating with restful glow, yet her eyes are already crystal sharp and watchful. His gaze follows the familiar paths of freckles on her face, his favourite trails to venture on. He loves seeing her this way, unpolished and breathtaking, a treasured view reserved for him alone.

“It really is,” he responds, voice husky from hours of inactivity as his hand reaches out to toy with a strand of her hair.

“There is still room for improvement,” she tilts her head playfully and presses herself forward anew, this time purposely letting her breasts brush against his chest as she kisses him properly.

A low moan brews in Hannibal’s throat as he feels her nipples hardening against his skin and his mouth tastes hers with silent hunger that grew voracious during the long hours of sleep. Her hand slowly trails down his stomach until it reaches his already erect member, wrapping itself around it with sure possession. Their lips part and she smiles appreciatively at his body’s immediate reaction. Hannibal returns the smile; he is an instrument of her pleasure after all and the tuning just comes naturally.

Now he shifts his hips, hands reaching out to cup her behind, a gentle prompt. Bedelia’s eyes gleam, the heighten aroma of her arousal swirls in the air around them, making it heavy despite the cool morning breeze rushing through the open window. Hannibal growls quietly as she settles herself astride him, still leisurely stroking the length of his erection. His eyes close as she takes him in slowly; no other physical sensation can rival the feeling of being enveloped by the heat of her. He sighs and lets his body settle under her ministrations, letting her take her fulfilment in any way she likes.

Pushing her hips forward, she begins to move, unhurried and leisurely like the morning unfolding around them. Hannibal’s hands rest on her hips as he soaks up the sight of her, glowing in her pursuit of pleasure, the rays of sun peaking from behind her, shy in their spectator role, but eager to caress the curves of her body. His hands move up to accompany the streams of light; Hannibal understands their need perfectly.

Bedelia leans forward to kiss him again, breasts stroking his chest repeatedly, and his hands follow, tracing the line of her back, fingers pressing softly in tempo with her movements. She moans into his mouth as her hips shift and he meets them by pushing his up, knowing the exact needy spot she needs tending to. Breaking the kiss, she smiles with bliss, eyes glossy with pleasure, in the complete surrender to the moment. Continuing the unrushed pace, she briefly rests her forehead on his, the connection of their bodies and minds fused with one gesture. He kisses her again and again, luxuriating in the delicious tenderness and the surging rapture as her body flows with his.

Finally, her fingers pin his chest down as her frame shivers and she comes with a soft cry, yet it resonates loudly in Hannibal’s ears as she pulsates around him, a boundless union. He feels as though she were coursing through his blood stream, a pleasure so deep, it leaves his mind bare and heart darting. As he finds his own fulfilment, the brilliant light of the sun intensifies, illuminating them both in their tender opulence.

Bedelia kisses him one last time before unravelling herself from his body. She moves aside but lies next to him still, placing her head on his chest, fingers brushing through his hair, prolonging the leisure.

“The morning has a lot to live up to now,” he pronounces and Bedelia sighs with serenity.

Hannibal smiles, enjoying the rush slowly leaving his body as their pulses return to normal, quietening each other. He closes his eyes and finds her sun encased silhouette still imprinted on his eyelids.

He remembers the stories he was told as a little boy about the sun goddess protecting everyone who was lost and alone and how painfully untrue they became when he needed them most. Now they are nothing but faint souvenirs.

And he no longer needs protection, he has his own goddess keeping him safe at all times.

**Author's Note:**

> The title means "heaven/paradise" in Lithuanian.  
Saulė is the Sun goddess and Mėnulis is the Moon god. I liked that, contrary to most mythologies, the Sun is a female and the Moon a male god. It goes well with Bedelia and Hannibal and who initiates the tryst in each part, but that is where the similarities end. Saulė and Mėnulis separated after Mėnulis committed indiscretions with the goddess of the Morning Star (ugh men). There are few versions of his subsequent punishment, one of them is being cut in two by the god of Thunder, Perkūnas. Since he has not learned his lesson, the punishment repeats every month. Saulė is considered a protector of the lost (in Lithuanian version), the unfortunate and orphans (Latvian version).  
That is a lot of research for a bit porn, I know, but I love to overthink everything and I wanted the two parts to be connected.
> 
> I purposely flipped my usual go to scenarios where Hannibal is the one who initiates slow lovemaking and Bedelia initiates more prompt encounters. They are so comfortable with each other, I see them both enjoying all of it equally. After all, they are verse in every meaning of that word. :)
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it! I had a great time writing it. Still can't get enough of these two.  
Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think. ♥


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